


What Sarah Said

by Sucks_to_suck_dennis



Category: Original Work
Genre: Canon Lesbian Relationship, F/F, Hurt No Comfort, Lesbian Character, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Sad Ending, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:34:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27567571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sucks_to_suck_dennis/pseuds/Sucks_to_suck_dennis
Summary: Twy paced in the waiting room, heels clicking against the tiled floor.And it came to me then that every plan is a tiny prayer to father time.It was supposed to be a quick trip to the pharmacy. “I won’t be gone long, Twyla. You just stay here, and I’ll be back with you anti-anxiety medicine in a second.”A second turned into a minute. A minute turned into thirty. Thirty minutes to an hour.Based off of the song What Sarah Said by Death Cab for Cutie.
Relationships: Original Character(s)/Original Character(s)





	What Sarah Said

Twy paced in the waiting room, heels clicking against the tiled floor.  
  
 _And it came to me then that every plan is a tiny prayer to father time._  
  
It was supposed to be a quick trip to the pharmacy. “ _I won’t be gone long, Twyla. You just stay here, and I’ll be back with you anti-anxiety medicine in a second._ ”  
  
A second turned into a minute. A minute turned into thirty. Thirty minutes to an hour.  
  
 _As I stared at my shoes in the ICU._  
  
Twy sat down in one of the hard seats in the waiting room of the hospital.  
  
Her anxiety was horrible. The pharmacy is less than five miles away, what is taking her so long? She thought. Maybe she was kidnapped, she was murdered, her car broke down, her card declined-  
  
She took a deep breath. She probably just was trying to go get an extra surprise for them. Maybe traffic caught her up.  
  
 _That reeked of piss and 409_  
  
The hospital smelled sterile. Twy hated it and being here. She shouldn’t have been here. She should be at home with James, making out or watching a movie or finding Jessica or anything but waiting here in a freaking hospital.  
  
Another hour slipped by. Twy’s phone rang.  
  
“ _James?!_ ” She said, her breath quickening.  
  
“ _Is this Twyla Remora?_ ” A lady who was not James Lee asked.  
  
“ _Yes..?_ ”  
  
“ _Hi, I’m the receptionist at St. Berlin hospital. We regret to inform you that Jessica Lee is in the hospital._ ”  
  
 _And I rationed my breaths as I said to myself that I’ve already taken too much today._  
  
Twy felt her fingers twitch. Her leg bounced. She recognized the signs: she needed to get high. But she wouldn’t. James hated it whenever she’d catch Twy shooting up. She made a silent prayer to whoever was listening that she’d never do another drug as long as James would be alright.  
  
Twy dropped her phone.  
  
“ _Hello?_ ” The receptionist said.  
  
Twy quickly picked it up again. Her voice came out barely above a whisper. “ _What?_ ”  
  
“ _Jessica Lee was brought to the emergency room at 8:03 pm after getting into a car accident on Winchester road._ ” She recited, probably having already explained it to James’ parents.  
  
 _As each descending peak on the LCD took you a little farther away from me._  
  
She couldn’t lose James. Not now. Not after everything. Things were perfect.  
  
Twy was amazed that she didn’t get a speeding ticket on the way to the hospital. She checked in as quickly as humanly possible, only to be told that James was in surgery and she’d have to wait.  
  
So she did. She waited. And waited. And here she was, still waiting. Two hours later.  
  
 _Away from me._  
  
Twy buried her head in her hands. She should have come with James. She should have been there.  
  
For what though? She’d still be alone. She couldn’t _die_ \- a “perk” of already being dead.  
  
She shouldn’t be thinking like that. James isn’t dead. She wouldn’t die- not with so much life left to live.  
  
James laughed, a memory replaying in the back of Twy’s head. “ _I won’t be gone long, Twyla_ ” replaying again and again and again. An image of James in that car wreck, head pressed against the air bag, knocked out.  
  
She suddenly felt sick. She stood up abruptly, causing a few people to lift their heads, and made a beeline for the bathroom. She threw up in a toilet, body convulsing. She wished James were there to hold her hair back so she could hold onto the toilet with both hands.  
  
When she finished, she wiped her mouth and flushed the toilet. She washed her hands and face, and took out a piece of gum and chewed and chewed and chewed.  
  
 _Amongst the vending machines and year-old magazines._  
  
She was hungry. But the thought of eating made her sick all over again. She stared at one of the magazines. Twy debated picking it up, but in the end, left it alone.  
  
Twy was trying to make a pie for Thanksgiving. Pumpkin. She tried to follow the recipe. One tablespoon baking powder, one teaspoon salt. Mix.  
  
What was her downfall was actually baking it. She forgot about it. James sniffed the air. “ _Do you smell burning?_ ”  
  
Twy’s eyes widened as she remembered her pie. She ran to the kitchen, taking it out, only to discover that it was on. Fucking. Fire.  
  
“ _Looks just like the picture._ ” James said reassuringly.  
  
“ _Don’t lie, James._ ” She replied.  
  
 _In a place where we only say goodbye._  
  
Twy tried to steel herself against the thought that she could lose her loved one. She couldn’t. She couldn’t leave her. She can’t. Tears started running down her face.  
  
“ _Goodbye, my darling._ ” James exaggerated as she split off into her class. “ _Farewell and may God be with you._ ”  
  
Twy smiled, pulling her in for a kiss. “ _Silly girl. You know God can suck my-_ ”, 

James giggled. " _Don't finish that sentence Remora._ " She said before kissing her before pulling away.  
  
 _It stung like a violent wind that our memories depend on a faulty camera in our mind._  
  
Memory after memory flooded Twy’s mind. Tear after tear slipped out her eyes.  
  
The clock read 12:03 a.m. Twy should be asleep. She tried, but the chairs were too hard and _how could she sleep when James was dying?_  
  
“ _Do you ever think about our memories? That at the slightest whim of whatever power, they could be taken away? That one wrong move, one hit too hard, and we could lose our memories? That our memories could be altered?_ ” James was having one of her existential crises in the middle of laying down on her bed. Twy moved from sitting on James’ desk chair to lying down on the bed next to her.  
  
“ _Don’t think like that, James._ ” She said, kissing her cheek.  
  
“ _But I have a point, don’t I?_ ” She countered.  
  
Twy pondered over it. “ _Well, you do, but I prefer to just think about you and how you are and the memories of you._ ”  
  
“ _You really like me, huh?_ ”  
  
“ _I love you, James._ ”  
  
 _And I knew you were a truth, I would rather lose than to have never laid beside at all._  
  
Twy wish she had one more kiss before all this. That she kissed James goodbye, that she told her how much she loved her, that she did more than just _worry_.  
  
She had forgotten what love had felt like. 10 years since she died, over 12 since she had met anyone she would have considered loving. But as she stood there, an anxious James kissing her.  
  
“ _W-was that okay?_ ” She asked.  
  
Twy was stunned for a minute, processing, before answering. “ _It was perfect._ ”  
  
 _And I looked around at all the eyes on the ground as the TV entertained itself._  
  
A few other people were in there too. A woman and a child. A man sitting alone. Someone who looked homeless asleep in a chair. A woman with red-tinted eyes who had no doubt been crying. Twy.  
  
She had been in a hospital once before when James had broken her ankle. She hated it then too.  
  
 _‘Cos there’s no comfort in the waiting room_  
  
She brought her knees up to her chest and hugged herself. She wished James was there with her reassuring smile and her happy-go-lucky attitude. Not in a hospital, in surgery.  
  
When James had broken her ankle, even in tears, bleeding, she had smiled and reassured Twy that she was alright.  
  
“ _Oh, my Satan, you’re bleeding_.” She covered her mouth.  
  
“ _Twy, I’m fine…_ ” She said, even though she was gritting her teeth and crying.  
  
“ _I can see the fucking bone!_ ”  
  
“ _Twyla, I’m perfectly fine, promise_.”  
  
 _Just nervous pacers bracing for bad news_.  
  
She got up to pace again, heels once more clicking on the floor.  
  
She wasn’t ready for this. Now ready to lose James. Not yet. Not until she finished her assignment. _Please, God_ , she prayed. _Do this one thing for me._  
  
 _Then the nurse comes ‘round and everyone lifts their head._  
  
She heard the squeak of someone else’s shoes and looked up. A nurse in blue scrubs was approaching her. _Please, please, please, please-_  
  
 _But I’m thinking of what Sarah Said._  
  
“We’re sorry for your loss.”  
  
 _Love is watching someone die_.  
  
Twy fell to the floor, sobbing. “No, no, no, no, no, NO! This can’t be James. You have the wrong person.”  
  
The nurse looked sympathetic. “No, sweetie, we don’t.”  
  
 _So who’s gonna watch you die?_  
  
Twy screamed, tears flowing down her face, curling into a ball.  
  
 _So who’s gonna watch you die?_  
  
Others watched her, no doubt thinking, _I’m glad that’s not me_.  
  
 _So who’s gonna watch you die?_  
  
James was going to heaven. She’d never see her lover again.  
  
 _So who’s gonna watch you die?_  
  
 _~fin~_


End file.
